


Matters of Pressing Concern

by Slicki



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, inspired by TTT, rated t for cursing, tonally i would describe this fic as frenetic in pacing and chaotic of heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27679841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slicki/pseuds/Slicki
Summary: Nayeon is an overworked CEO with a company mysteriously in the red. Jeongyeon is a journalist with a bone to pick.One hellish interview later, they learn to meet in the middle.Kind of.
Relationships: Im Nayeon/Yoo Jeongyeon
Comments: 21
Kudos: 371





	Matters of Pressing Concern

**Author's Note:**

> In short, this was inspired by TTT. In slightly longer, this fic is very much meant to be read as a bit of a comedy, so don't expect too much emotional heavy lifting. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Also this was very much not proofread and I'm sleepy so apologies in advance for typos!

About five minutes into her interview for the September issue of _Business Times_ , Nayeon is sure of only two things:

  1. This journalist is annoying.
  2. This journalist is gorgeous.



"Tell me, Ms. Im, what do you say to rumors of your company's less-than-favorable financial status?" Yoo Jeongyeon crosses her legs as she speaks, and Nayeon laments the fact that the first universal truth will be more relevant than the second.

Yoo raises her eyebrow after several moments of silence, but Nayeon disregards it, taking another moment to look the journalist over. She doesn't really know what it is about the woman that she finds so oddly compelling. Her usual type was more "sparkling diamonds draped over collarbones and floor-sweeping evening gowns with a tastefully plunging back" not—her eyes take in Yoo's slightly oversized pantsuit and messy bun— _this_. The only thing on her of note is her smartwatch.

Maybe it’s the press pass. She always did have a thing for authority figures.

“Ms. Im, if you’d like to end the interview, I won’t stop you.”

This draws Nayeon’s attention. Her eyes snap up to meet Yoo’s, only just now fully aware of the annoyance that blazes within them. It’s satisfying to see, because Nayeon knows damn well Yoo came into this interview intending to write a hit piece.

The initial contact had been amicable; it always was with journalists, but Nayeon had learned her lesson over the years. Journalists had one mission and one mission only: selling copies.

And Nayeon knew of Yoo Jeongyeon. Everyone in the business world did. The woman had made a hobby of exposing corrupt business practices over the last several years, and Nayeon had seen more than one colleague have to step down in shame after Yoo Jeongyeon put pen to paper.

She wasn’t going to suffer the same fate, no matter how hard her detractors went after her. Nayeon didn’t get to where she was by being stupid.

The problem—the reason Nayeon can’t just slam the door in Yoo Jeongyeon’s face and tell her to go get bent—is that there actually is something wrong with her company. The next layer of the problem is that Nayeon isn’t the one behind said problem. She’s not skimming off the top to finance a yacht or third home. She’s just as in the dark as everyone else when it comes to why her company is suddenly needing to seek loans and refinancing options at the end of what was a very successful year.

Everyone, from her CFO to the intern that makes her coffee, claims to not know of any misdeeds, but Nayeon knows her company. She knows something is wrong, and so does Yoo Jeongyeon.

“My apologies, Ms. Yoo.” Nayeon offers her most charming smile. “I didn’t have my coffee this morning. My brain is still booting up.”

Yoo’s eyes dart over her shoulder, and Nayeon knows she’s zeroing in on the cup of coffee on her desk. Nayeon grants herself this one lie to get caught in.

“Of course,” Yoo says with an empty smile. “Well, back to my earlier question. Your company—”

“Is going through growing pains any company might,” Nayeon interrupts, plastering on a smile. “We’ve had several new ventures come about this year, and it’s not too unusual for there to be some financial flux.”

Yoo hums, jots something down on her notebook that Nayeon itches to toss out of her 14th floor window. “I see. Have you found it hard to keep morale up? I know you had to let several employees go last month, including some that have been with you since your company’s inception.”

Nayeon grits her teeth and tells herself that the scandal that would come from tackling South Korea’s most up and coming reporter to the ground and hitting her in the head with a stiletto would not be worth the satisfaction. She manages a controlled answer, grimly satisfied when Jeongyeon moves on to the next question.

“You mentioned ‘company unity’. Does this unity ring false in light of…”

If she ever sees Yoo Jeongyeon again after this, it will be too soon.

  
  
  


Too soon comes after lunch.

Nayeon presses the down button on the elevator with a smile. With her morning meetings and interview from hell behind her, she feels so much lighter. There’s even a chance, albeit a small one, that she can be out of the office before 6 pm tonight.

She fiddles with her phone, pulling up her text thread with Sana and Momo and ghosting her thumb over her phone screen. It’s been awhile since she’s been able to see her old roommates, and it would be nice to see them after the day she’s had.

Halfway through a _What’re you ladies up to tonight?_ the elevator chimes, and Nayeon walks blindly through the open doors.

“I feel like this is a metaphor for something.”

Nayeon’s head snaps up, and she barely suppresses a scream at the sight of the other person in the elevator. Her fright quickly turns into annoyance as Yoo continues speaking.

“You, getting on an elevator without paying attention to where you’re going. The elevator, going down.” Yoo smirks. “Like your company, really.”

Nayeon takes a deep breath, and then she decides that she’s had enough for today. “ _What_ is your problem? You don’t even know me!”

“I know your type.” Yoo leans back against the railing of the elevator, crossing her arms. “You get to the top and suddenly everyone is just a number to you.”

Nayeon scoffs, and, before she can think better of it, she’s stepping directly in front of the journalist. “You don’t know shit about me, Ms. Yoo. Frankly, if this is how you conduct your investigations, it’s a wonder you’ve managed to uncover anything at all. Do you just come in swinging at the slightest bit of trouble?” Nayeon takes a step closer, drawing glee from the tightening of Yoo’s face. “Are you that desperate for recognition? Scared after six months of stories on washed-up pop stars and factory reports?”

Yoo’s eyes flash. She straightens up, mouth opening to respond, but Nayeon cuts her off. The rage coursing through her is thrilling, and it’s been far too long since Nayeon let herself speak her mind so freely. Being CEO doesn’t exactly give her the license to tell off everyone who pissed her off, but she could make a special exception for Yoo Jeongyeon.

“Yeah, I did some reading on you too, and I can cherry pick just as easily as you did.”

Yoo takes a step forward, and they’re chest to chest now. Nayeon can feel sharp words swirling under her tongue, and she anticipates the response with an almost frantic glee. Her blood thrums throughout her veins, and the smile on her face is stretching her cheeks. Yoo’s bun is even messier than it was this morning, and Nayeon can’t help but notice the way blonde strands fall across furious brown eyes.

The ding of the elevator doors opening snaps Nayeon back to reality, and she all but stumbles backwards and away from her newfound nemesis as her CFO steps into the elevator. Yoo stays put, defiant.

“Ms. Im.” He tilts his head respectfully before turning to greet the other occupant. “Ah, Ms. Yoo, was it? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I can’t say I’ve had the same experience with you,” Yoo replies. Nayeon is almost amused at how calm she sounds now, no signs of having been two seconds away from scrapping with a CEO in an elevator. “You came on two months ago, yes?”

Her CFO nods, smiling easily. “Correct. It’s been a joy working here.”

A familiar look steals across Yoo’s face, and Nayeon knows she has to act now before Yoo attempts a pointless interrogation. “Actually, Mr. Kim. Would you mind if we got off on the next floor? I just remembered that I had some reports I wanted to review with you.”

He agrees, and when they leave together, Nayeon can’t resist the urge to turn back and flip Yoo Jeongyeon off. The face she catches the journalist making behind her back assuages any guilt she may have had about being rude.

  
  
  


As the corporate fates would have it, Nayeon doesn’t get the chance to leave the office until 8pm. In a way, that godforsaken she-devil of a journalist had done Nayeon a favor by interrupting her text to Sana and Momo; she’s had to cancel on them one too many times recently.

Nayeon doesn’t let herself feel too much gratitude, though, as she had been unable to stop reviewing their argument in her mind as she tried to address the piles of paperwork on her desk. She had rerun every word Yoo had said, mouthed them silently and switched them around to see if there was a way she could’ve hit the journalist more effectively.

Nayeon had thought of her eyes as well. The way they narrowed and widened and looked at Nayeon like she was something to be peeled apart, layer by layer. There had been the curl of shaking fingers around the elevator railing, the bump of her shoe against Nayeon’s as they had moved closer and closer, even the flowery scent that had lingered about the journalist.

Needless to say, Nayeon had lost hours of productivity, and all she wanted to do now was go home and pass out on her bed. In her haste to exit, she knocks shoulders with a janitor sweeping up in the lobby of her building. She mutters an apology and moves towards the doors, but the ‘Sorry’ she gets in return has her freezing.

Something about the voice is familiar, but she isn’t quite certain through the gruffness of it. She turns around and takes a moment to study the sweeping figure. As she watches the figure push the mop across the floor, she begins to convince herself that her fatigued mind is just beginning to play tricks on her.

Then one of the janitor’s sleeves catches on the handle of the mop, and Nayeon sees a flash of a familiar watch. A piece of blonde hair falls from underneath the janitor’s cap, and Nayeon _knows._ Before she can think twice, Nayeon is storming over there, ripping off the janitor’s hat with a shout.

Yoo doesn’t hesitate either. Letting the mop fall to the floor with an echoing clatter, she begins to sprint towards the door, leaving Nayeon with a racing heart and a fistful of baseball cap.

“Hey,” Nayeon shouts, beginning to give chase. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Taking a moment to send mental thanks to her physical trainer, Nayeon dashes across the lobby, pushing through the doors without missing a step. It takes her a second to see which way Yoo has gone out the door, but she gains her bearings quickly.

Nayeon doesn’t consider stopping for a moment, not when she can tell Yoo is flagging. She shouts after the other woman, knowing it won’t stop her but hoping she can spook her into making a mistake. It seems to work, as Yoo’s foot catches on a curb that Nayeon herself often trips on.

Nayeon catches up, and doesn’t waste a moment in tackling her to the ground.

“What the fuck,” Nayeon manages to pant out. She glares down at the woman pinned beneath her, unsurprised to see defiance in her eyes. “Are you insane?”

“No,” Yoo bites out. “I’m getting justice.” She turns her head to the side to spit a leaf out of her mouth.

“Justice? You’re lying in mulch and wearing a janitor’s uniform. I don’t see how that inspires justice. Maybe a night in prison.”

Yoo tenses, and Nayeon feels a rush at the realization that she holds all the power here.

“I wasn’t—” Yoo cuts herself off with a harsh sigh. Her head drops to rest in the dirt, and Nayeon does her damndest not to stare at the pale column of her throat. “—whatever. It’s not the first time I— Why are your office lights on?”

“What?” Nayeon blinks. “They’re motion sensitive. They turn off five minutes after I leave the office.”

“Okay, well then why are they on?”

Nayeon begins to turn her head, but at the last second she remembers who she’s dealing with. “You must think you’re so clever, huh? Tell me that my lights are on so that I look away. Then you’ll flip me over and, and...well I don’t really know what you were trying to do but that!”

Yoo scowls. “We’re not in a crime movie, Ms. Im. I’m not a highly trained criminal, as proven by the fact that you tackled me into the dirt after I tripped.”

“Then what were you doing?”

A heavy sigh. Nayeon wonders how morally gray it would be to offer to let the other woman go if she went and got a drink with her. She then wonders if maybe she should give her therapist a call.

“I was looking for evidence of wrongdoing. _Someone_ at your company is hiding something, and I was going to find out who. Which is why I’d like to know why your lights are on. I made sure I was the only cleaning person in the building.”

Nayeon squints. “Promise me that you won’t try and escape if I look.”

Yoo has the nerve to roll her eyes. “I promise. Now please hurry. You’re heavy.”

Nayeon begins to let out an indignant protest, but it dies in her throat when she looks fourteen floors up and realizes that her office lights are indeed on. A moment later, a figure passes by the window, heading towards her desk.

“Fuck.”

“Exactly. Now, move.”

  
  


The second time Nayeon is in an elevator with Yoo Jeongyeon is much different than the first. For starters, the other woman has grass in her hair, which Nayeon has no intention of alerting her too. Additionally, they’re not really at each other’s throats this time.

“I don’t understand why you seem to have it out for my company.”

Not quite.

“Ms. Im—”

“Nayeon.”

“Huh?” Yoo blinks, eyes wide. Nayeon thinks she looks like an owl.

“Just call me Nayeon. At this point, you’ve broken into my company, so I think we can be on a first name basis.”

“I… I don’t think that’s how that’s supposed to work.”

Nayeon shrugs, too tired to care. “Listen, I just want to go home, and hearing you call me Ms. like there’s some respect behind it when we both know there isn’t is draining.”

It’s quiet for a moment, only the soft dings and whooshes of their very slow elevator filling the silence.

“I do respect you.” Yoo’s voice is quiet, hesitant, and she won’t look up from the floor. “I’ve followed your career since your days at FiveKid.” She looks up just long enough to catch Nayeon’s wide eyes before looking down once more. “You made quite the splash at the conference in Ulsan that one year. I was impressed, and completely unsurprised when you struck out on your own the next year. I wasn’t even there to cover the technology sector, but I remembered you.”

Nayeon feels as if the world has stilled beneath her feet, and she is seized with an urge so impulsive, so freeing, that her hands tremble. It’s only Jeongyeon’s voice that stills her steps.

“I apologize for my attitude earlier. I… was frustrated at what seemed like the moral failing of someone I thought rather impressive.” Yoo looks up again, and Nayeon becomes like stone. “It’s obvious at this point that you’re just as lost as I am. Truce?”

Yoo extends a hand, but all Nayeon wants to do is pull the other woman into an ill-advised hug, so fierce is the buzzing beneath her skin.

Thankfully, the ding of the elevator arriving on the 14th floor snaps her out of her stupor. She takes the proffered hand. “Hi, I’m Im Nayeon, CEO of Im Technologies. It’s nice to meet you. Call me Nayeon.”

Yoo’s smile unfolds slowly on her face, and it gives Nayeon butterflies at its zenith. “Hi, Nayeon. My name is Yoo Jeongyeon, but you can just call me Jeongyeon. I’m a reporter with _Business Times_ , but I do freelance as well.”

The weight of Jeongyeon’s hand in her own is an oddly comforting one, a smooth warmth Nayeon would love to lean into if not for their current circumstances. With what she hopes is a charming smile, Nayeon withdraws her hand and steps out of the elevator. “I’ve read a lot of your pieces, just so you know.”

Jeongyeon’s eyebrow quirks. “Oh? Is that so?”

Nayeon shrugs, well-aware of the pounding of her heart. She’s not sure if it’s more from the nerves of finding out who is in her office or from the woman next to her, but she has her suspicions.

Nayeon hums in acknowledgement. “Well, it’s hard to miss takedowns of people in my industry, but I actually really liked your piece on dog shelters. I had been hoping that was the journalist Yoo I’d be getting today.”

Jeongyeon, much to Nayeon’s delight, flushes. “I don’t think any article written about you could just be a fluff piece.” It’s said very matter-of-factly, but the words have Nayeon tamping down a squeal all the same.

It’s only as they round the corner to her office that she’s able to find her words once more. “So, how exactly does this work?”

Jeongyeon stops. “Well, back when I thought it was you, I was just going to hack into your computer—”

“Hey!”

“But now,” Jeongyeon continues, unphased, “I think it’s best to get some evidence on tape and then call the police.”

Nayeon takes a moment to mull the plan over. “That seems so easy.”

Jeongyeon shrugs. “I told you. We’re not in a crime movie. Now pull out your overrated phone and hit film.”

“This phone is _not_ overrated,” Nayeon hisses, following Jeongyeon as she begins to slink down the hallway. “It has a state-of-the-art camera, and more storage than anyone could’ve dreamed of a year ago. It’s processing pow-”

Jeongyeon pulls her phone out of her pocket and winks. “The customer is always right, Ms. Im.”

Nayeon says nothing as Jeongyeon places the latest model of Im Technologies’ phone back in her pocket.

They’re at the door now, and Nayeon takes a deep breath as she wraps her hand around the doorknob.

“It’ll be alright,” Jeongyeon says in a whisper, laying a hand on Nayeon’s shoulder. “We don’t even need to confront who’s in there, just confirm who they are. People are surprisingly inattentive when breaking into places. You’ll see.”

And she does. The next thirty minutes pass in a sort of distant whirlwind. At about the time Nayeon cracks the door open and realizes that her CFO is the one rifling through her desk and accessing her computer, Nayeon feels the world begin to slip away from her.

She’s vaguely aware of hitting record on her phone, of Jeongyeon gently pulling her away after a minute and letting her know that the cops were on their way. If she concentrates, she can remember standing in the corner of her too-large office, watching the person she had planned this company’s future with be led out in gleaming handcuffs.

Remembering the gentle press of Jeongyeon’s hand on her shoulder is the easiest of all, because all Nayeon needs to do to find the sensation again is focus on the present.

She sits in one of her conference rooms across from an officer who looks like he’s barely fighting off sleep. Jeongyeon sits next to her, one hand on Nayeon’s shoulder and the other drumming against the table. The officer asks questions in an almost painful monotone, and it’s only thanks to Jeongyeon that they eventually muddle through.

The shock of the cool night air is what finally brings Nayeon back to herself. A warm weight settles about her shoulders, and she turns her head to see Jeongyeon looking at her in a way that chases the remaining chill from her chest.

“It would be stupid to ask if you’re okay, wouldn’t it?”

Nayeon barks out a laugh. “Just a bit.” She tilts her head to the sky, looking at the few stars she can manage to see through the city’s light pollution. “I bet this will make a good story at least.”

Jeongyeon stiffens. “Nayeon I… I hope you know that I don’t want to destroy your company or your image. I just—”

“You wanted justice for a perceived wrong,” Nayeon cuts in. “I get it, really.” She offers a wry smile. “Besides, if you make me look cool in the story, maybe it’ll help save our stock prices.”

“I’ll write about you honestly.” Jeongyeon stuffs her hands into her pant pockets, and it’s only then that Nayeon realizes the weight around her shoulders is Jeongyeon’s blazer.

The sleeves of Jeongyeon’s shirt are bunched up now, and Nayeon is reminded all at once of what she had felt when they were in that elevator. Tonight has been a rollercoaster, and Nayeon has nothing left to lose.

“Would you like to go to dinner with me sometime?”

Jeongyeon’s eyes widen. “Dinner?”

Nayeon nods, takes a moment to consider that this night has ruined her sense of self-preservation. “I’d like to take you on a date.”

“Oh.”

Nayeon has learned that romantic gestures that are met with an “Oh.” are doomed to failure.

“Actually,” Jeongyeon says, sheepishly running her hands through her hair, “I can’t get involved with someone I'm writing a piece about. Conflict of interest. But, uh, here.” Jeongyeon pulls her wallet out of her pocket, and a moment later, extends a business card.

Nayeon takes the card, still unsure if she’s being rejected or not.

“Read the article first,” Jeongyeon says, grin pulling at her lips. “Read the article, and if you like what you read, then give me a call. Today has been weird as fuck, but I did enjoy getting to know the real you.”

Nayeon laughs. “Okay, fair enough. But first.” She presses a kiss to Jeongyeon’s cheek, lingering just long enough to be more-than-friendly. The dusting of pink across Jeongyeon’s cheeks tells her everything she needs to know about her interest being returned. “Have a good night, Yoo Jeongyeon.”

“You too.”  
  
  


A week and a half later, her secretary delivers the September issue of _Business Times_ to her desk with a knowing smile. “I took a peek at the article, Ms. Im,” she says. “I really think you’re going to like it.”

It’s almost enough for Nayeon to just call Jeongyeon on the spot, but she resists the urge long enough to open the magazine and flip to Jeongyeon’s article.

She gets two sentences in before pulling out her phone.

“I take it you liked the article?”

“Tomorrow. 7 o’clock. We’re going to my favorite sushi place. You’re driving. I’ll text you my address.”

Jeongyeon’s delighted laughter and agreement ring in her ears long after she’s hung up the phone.  
  
  


_Mission Impossible: The Midnight Heist at Im Technologies_

_By: Yoo Jeongyeon_

_Much has been written about Im Nayeon, CEO of the famed Im Technologies, but none of these texts include the two most important facts about Im. First, she always remembers to turn off the lights in her office, and second, she’s an excellent short-distance runner._

_The much-fabled CEO_ —

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!! =] Catch me @2yeonaus on twitter if so inclined!!


End file.
